


Unanswered Prayers

by mtothedestiel



Series: Garth Brooks 'Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Country & Western, Domestic, Established Relationship, Famous Dean, Fatherhood, Fluff, M/M, Musician Dean, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, garth brooks 'verse, minor offscreen character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie is almost five when Charlie calls Dean with a surprising discovery.  How will it affect the Winchester-Novak family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanswered Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> New section for country music!star Dean and his husband Cas! The title song for this section isn't a perfect fit, but still a quality piece of music if anyone wants to take a listen. This story will be a few chapters, but much shorter than my previous installment (which is still ongoing!). Enjoyy!

 

_Enterprise this is Scotty.  We’ve got a situation in the engine bay that requires the Captain’s immediate attention.  This is not a drill.  Dean, in case that wasn’t clear enough: You’re gonna want to get to my office as soon as possible.  It’s not a life-threatening emergency, but you’re gonna want to hear about this sooner rather than later.  Charlie out._

* * *

 

“Did you ever sleep with a chick named Lisa Braeden?”  Charlie asked as soon as her office door closed.  Dean nearly landed on his ass as he stumbled over an office chair leg. 

“Jeez, Charlie,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his thigh where he’d gouged himself on Charlie’s chic furniture, “Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Yeah, well, as of the last three hours the flings of your wayward youth have officially become serious PR business,” Charlie declared, sinking into her bright orange desk chair, “So.  Lisa.  Ring any bells?”

“Um, yeah actually,” Dean admitted, scratching the bristles on his cheeks, “Braeden, right?  We spent a weekend together about fifteen years ago, while I was still playing that opening gig.  Last hookup I ever had, matter of fact.”

“So she never tried to get in contact with you again?” Charlie asked, flipping through some files on her desk.

“What? No,” Dean said, “It wasn’t that kind of thing.  I mean, we had fun, but we both knew it wasn’t going any further than the weekend.  ‘Sides, I met Cas about a month later, and, you know, end of story.”

Charlie nodded, and the office fell into silence.  Charlie was hesitant, fidgeting with a bobble head toy on her desk.

“Why are we talking about Lisa?” Dean asked, leaning forward in his chair, “Did something happen?”

“Well, yeah,” Charlie said reluctantly, releasing the toy, “She died.  Just a couple of months ago.  Car accident.”

“Oh.”  Dean sat back in his chair again, rubbing a hand through his hair.  That was…a strange thing to process.  His memories of Lisa were good, but fuzzy, hazed over by the passage of time.  Their time together was too brief to learn much about each other, but Dean remembered her smile, and her fearlessness.  He felt a pang of grief that Lisa didn’t get the chance to live the full life she deserved.

“That’s,” Dean attempted, clearing his throat, “That’s too bad.”

“She _also_ ,” Charlie continued, after a sympathetic pause, “Had a son.  His name is Ben.”

“Okay,” Dean prompted.

“He’s been living with an elderly aunt, but apparently about a week ago he ran away from home, after he found a letter his mom wrote him revealing the identity of his biological dad.”

 “Why are you tellin’ me this, Charlie?” Dean asked.  Trepidation blossomed in his gut.

“Because I had a meeting with Ben three hours ago,” Charlie revealed, “And he’s only fifteen, but dude, the resemblance is _striking."_

Oh.… _Oh._

“No-now hang on,” Dean stammered, “There’s no way-“

“Dude,” Charlie cut him off, “You’re _Dean Winchester_.  Do you know how many fake paternity suits I’ve had to deal with over the years?  If I didn’t think there was a chance this kid was the real McCoy I wouldn’t have dragged you down here.”

Dean’s head spun.  He thought he and Lisa had played it safe, but alcohol had definitely been a factor in their…activities.  And now he could have a kid.  Another kid.  Dean might have a son.

“Where’s he now?” Dean asked, looking around as though Charlie might have hidden a fifteen year old under her desk to ambush him.

“I put him up at a Holiday Inn down the street,” Charlie assured him, “I made sure he called his family, but he wants to stay.  I figured a little room service and pay-per-view couldn’t hurt while we figure this mess out.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “So you really think he’s mine?”

“You tell me,” Charlie suggested, sliding an envelope across her desk, “Ben brought these, in case you wanted to see them.”

Photographs. Dean recognized Lisa in most of them.  They seemed to span the course of a decade or more.  In some Lisa was holding a baby, who Dean assumed to be Ben, looking almost exactly as Dean remembered her from their tryst.  Others featured the same kid at six, ten, or thirteen years old, with Lisa or other people who looked like family.  In all of them Lisa looked happy and proud.  

It was Lisa’s son, no doubt about it.  Her brown eyes, her warm complexion.  But there was Dean’s mouth.  And his nose.  And his shoulders and his grin and his hands…

Dean sat back with a deep breath, running his hand through his hair again.

“I need to call Cas.”


End file.
